


This One Laughing Quietly

by Thistlerose



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the little things that throw her.<br/>Written in 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This One Laughing Quietly

It's weird having a boyfriend all of a sudden. Weird having _Simon_ as a boyfriend. The sex is good. Real good, actually. So is the kissing. Kaylee can't complain about the cuddling, either.

It's the little things that throw her.

Like when Simon pulls her chair out for her. She can do it herself – he's seen her do it herself more times than she can count – but there he is, pulling out her chair like he's some waiter in a fancy restaurant. It's kind of nice, except when Jayne makes fun of her. 

Need a silk pillow for that pampered ass? Need your food cut up into itty bitty lady-like portions? Oh, _do_ pass the salt.

Oh, _do_ shut up, Mal says.

Like finding a protective, almost possessive arm wrapped around her waist when they're in a bar and some guy starts leering at her. That doesn't always stop the leering – Simon isn't likely to put the fear of God in anyone's heart – but it makes her feel kind of shiny inside.

Like rifling through the pile of clothes on her floor and finding one of Simon's sweaters, or a pair of his boxers. His sweaters smell like mint and bergamot and other Simon-y things. His boxers smell even better. Sometimes, when she's working, she'll wear one of his shirts tied around her waist. River gives her knowing smiles when she does this, like she's in on one of Kaylee's secrets.

Nothing prepares her for chocolate covered strawberries. 

It's like an ambush. Simon springs them on her a couple of hours after they've left the planet Callisto. They're in a red box trimmed with white ribbon. 

"Um," Kaylee says, running her fingertip along the ribbon. It's silky, but she knows that it's probably _not_ silk.

"They're for you," says Simon.

"Yeah, I kinda gathered that."

"Here." Simon takes one of the strawberries and holds it toward her.

It's good thing they're in her quarters; only Simon can see her blush and stammer. She's supposed to bite into it, she knows. Maybe take all of it in her mouth and lick his fingers. Won't that be something? Fresh strawberries (of course they're fresh) and chocolate and the salt from his skin.

"And a silky ribbon," she hears herself murmur.

Simon gives her a quizzical look and to her horror she finds herself giggling. It's a _real_ good thing they're in her quarters; she hopes River isn't spying on them somehow.

"Fine," says Simon, and pops the strawberry into his mouth.

Well, now.

_That's_ not fair. Her first chocolate-covered strawberry, and _he's_ eating it.

She could grab another from the box in his hand.

Instead, she grabs Simon.

It's a messy kiss, but she gets to taste her strawberry and the chocolate – _dark_ chocolate, he knows her so well – _and_ him. He's been drinking tea; there's a hint of Darjeeling or somesuch on his breath. She gets to feel the softness of his lips and the swipe of his tongue long after the strawberry is gone.

If they did things her way, they'd just flop onto the bed. But no, Simon's got enough presence of mind to find a flat surface on which to lay to box of strawberries. _Then_ he falls on top of her, and Kaylee's not sure if she should be a little annoyed or not. It was nice of him to save her present, but it wouldn't have been so bad if he'd crashed with her and let the things go flying.

She's not annoyed, she decides a few moments later, when they're wriggling out of clothes and his hands seem to be everywhere. He's got real nice hands: cool palms, long, slender fingers. 

"Think I can be bought with fancy presents?" she teases while her own fingers (callused, grease under the nails) play over his neck and shoulders.

"Well, I was _hoping…_ "

She feigns disdain. He grabs her wrists, pins them to the sheet. Then there's more kissing and she's back on familiar turf.

10/09/05


End file.
